


predator and prey

by lawltam



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Soccer Club!Akaashi, not vore i swear, symbolism??, theyre not actually birds ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 13:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14853765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lawltam/pseuds/lawltam
Summary: Akaashi remembers everything. He remembers the slam of a spiked volleyball in Gym 3. He remembers a boisterous voice down the hallways early in the morning. He remembers a jersey - coloured white, black and yellow - adorned withFUKURODANIand the number 4, displayed like a king on top of a throne. He remembers a pair of golden eyes, burning with passion and heat that rival the sun.





	predator and prey

Akaashi Keiji is a nightingale. He is a bird of the night, singing sad songs in a soft and melancholic voice. He is a creature born to live in the darkness. He is born to never see the light of day, yet he yearns to feel the natural warmth of the sun.

Bokuto Koutarou is an owl, yet he lives in the sun. He is a creature born in the darkness, but he strives to bask in the light. He is a soaring bird in the high sky, flying as close to the sun as his wings would take him.

Bokuto is a bird of prey, and Akaashi is a meal handed on a silver platter. Yet Bokuto finds himself falling victim to Akaashi and lets himself get devoured whole by the beautiful nightingale.

*

Akaashi remembers a chilling loneliness seeping into his bones whenever he returned home from soccer practice. He remembers sitting in his room, study guides piled on top of another on his desk, untouched while he stayed immobile on his bed, frozen by lack of motivation.

Akaashi remembers nothing. He doesn’t remember the chatter of students in the hallways. He doesn’t remember the names or faces of classmates he used to encounter everyday. He doesn’t remember the taste of sweat on his upper lips after hours of gruelling soccer practice.

Akaashi remembers everything. He remembers the slam of a spiked volleyball in Gym 3. He remembers a boisterous voice down the hallways early in the morning. He remembers a jersey - coloured white, black and yellow - adorned with _FUKURODANI_ and the number 4, displayed like a king on top of a throne. He remembers a pair of golden eyes, burning with passion and heat that rival the sun.

*

Bokuto remembers smiling so hard that he thought his cheeks would break– like a beautiful porcelain vase balancing on the edge of a stand. He remembers feeling so loved by teammates and friends alike that it could last him until the end of his life. He remembers gold medals and cheers so loud that his ears popped, slaps on the back and a rush of victory coursing through his muscles.

Bokuto remembers nothing. He doesn’t remember hours in class, listening to the teacher drone on and on about variables and statistics. He doesn’t remember the colours of his physics textbooks, filled to the brim with equations and problems that his brain couldn’t retain because he instead thought of volleyball strategies for their next practice match against Nekoma. He doesn’t remember the names of female underclassmen handing him love letters, red faces hot from embarrassment.

Bokuto remembers everything. He remembers long, slender fingers handing him his dropped English notebook, pink lips muttering a _‘Here you go’_ in a soft, yet calm voice. He remembers the whisper of his name spreading among the third years like a forest fire: the rushed murmur of the new student council president despite being only a second year; the new soccer captain despite having third years battle for that title. He remembers dark blue eyes, spilling with a hungry envy and yearning that make him feel like he’s being devoured whole.

*

Akaashi is a nightingale, wanting nothing more to bask in the light. Bokuto is an owl with wax wings that will melt if he dares to hover too close to the sun and make him fall back into the jaws of the night.

They are the birds of Fukurodani that need to learn how to find comfort in the dark and live without the warmth of the sun.

*

Akaashi had only one goal for his high school life: to be able to boast about it once it’s over. His stellar grades forced all the eyes in his year on him: the quiet and attractive Mr Mysterious of Fukurodani. President of the student council, star player of the soccer team and leading role in the school play. He had it all, everything that he had hoped for.

_Enter the owl._

Akaashi has been practicing his passes with a teammate after school one day when he heard it. He was fairly familiar with the school’s volleyball team; it had been led to Nationals on multiple occasions and forced all the spotlight on Fukurodani for once. However, Akaashi wasn’t very invested in the sport. He didn’t know much of it at all, just that most of the players are an awful lot taller than the soccer club members.

But even through the chatter of him and his friend and the pats of goalie gloves against a soccer ball, he still recognized it, as clear as the brilliant moon in the pitch black darkness of the night. The telltale slam of a spiked volleyball against wooden tiled floors and a satisfied yell, almost an animalistic roar from deep within the throat, sent shivers down his spine.

Akaashi looked up bewildered, and the soccer ball came to a stop at his feet. His friend tried to call his name, but Akaashi didn’t register it in his head. All he could think about was the continuous sound of volleyballs slapping the gym floor in a repetitive rhythm, echoing in his mind.

“I think I’m done for the day. Good work, Hitoshi-kun.” Akaashi muttered quickly, distractedly, picking up the soccer ball and tucking it under his arm. Hitoshi returned a half-hearted wave, muttering a quiet, most likely out of confusion at the abrupt end of their practice, _‘Thanks. You too, Senpai’_ , but Akaashi had already left the field in favour of heading towards Gym 3.

He approached the open entrance, dark eyes peering into the fluorescently lit gym. Only a handful of people were there, maybe three or four members of the volleyball club that he couldn’t recognize, but Akaashi didn’t care about how many individuals were there. He was much more interested in whoever yelled before.

It didn’t seem like Akaashi had to wait for very long, as a ball whizzed past his face, barely missed his head and hit the wall behind him with a deafening _SLAM_. It dropped to the floor by his feet and immediately, someone ran up to him, yelling apologies in a rushed dialogue, words crashing into each other in a flurry. Akaashi could only blink.

“You– ” Akaashi was absolutely speechless for once in his life. The person in front of him– how to say? Simply put, he was breathtaking. Even with every inch of skin covered in sweat (but Akaashi probably wasn’t much better off), he looked like an angel sent from above. Starting from the spiked grey hair that he’s never noticed in a sea of classmates to the defining muscle lines on biceps, he was quite possibly the most handsome person Akaashi had ever encountered. He swallowed thickly and shook his head. Why was he so nervous? He’s the student council president, for fuck’s sake, and public speaking usually wasn’t a problem for Akaashi, but he continued to stare, at a loss for words. “I– it’s fine.”

Akaashi was instantly answered with a blinding grin, enough for him to slightly turn his head away. _“Great! Do you like volleyball?”_ The excited member seemed to be bouncing on his heels, looking thrilled to be talking to Akaashi.

“No, I’m completely indifferent in the sport. However,” Akaashi looked back at the person in front of him, with an unreadable expression on his face. “I’m much more interested in you.”

Akaashi had always been bold and direct. He didn’t see the point in chasing around the bush, because in his mind, being straightforward saves valuable time. He didn’t– _couldn’t_ – find any profit from tiptoeing around ridiculous situations. Akaashi had always been bold and direct, yet he felt as if this was the only time he hesitated in his decision.

He chose to ignore the whooping of the other volleyball club members in favour of focusing on the way a dark blush looked on the beauty. His mouth opened, then closed. Akaashi didn’t even let him reply, instead muttering a quiet, “Have a good evening,” and walking away with the image of golden eyes burning into his mind.

*

Bokuto pretty much only had one goal for his high school life: play volleyball. He wanted to play the sport for as long as he could, letting himself be led to tournaments and practices with crowds that cheer at every score he spiked. He wanted to spike balls on national television, lead his team to victory and have dozens of cameras focus on the number on his back.

And it was working! He had worked so hard to dig his path to the role as team captain and now sat on top of his golden throne with a cocky, tooth-bearing grin, but it always felt as if there was something missing. Wasn’t a king supposed to have an advisor by his side?

_Enter the nightingale._

Bokuto had called over Kuroo and Kenma to Fukurodani to squeeze in some extra practice time, since all of his club members had left an hour ago. After all, who needs to study for college entrance exams when Bokuto was being showered with sport scholarships from schools scattered all over Japan? They did this on a weekly basis: practice at their respective schools, then the Nekoma duo would head over to Fukurodani to satisfy Bokuto’s urge to spike, and end the night with ramen from Shibuya.

And that’s when Bokuto spotted him, by the entrance near Kenma. Dark messy hair and half-lidded eyes. A beauty was what he saw. Distracted, Bokuto’s spike was completely thrown off balance and barreled into the direction Bokuto was facing. _Oh shit._

Luckily, the ball hit the wall a few inches from Pretty Boy’s head. Bokuto immediately rushed over to apologize, head bowed and eyes glued to the floor because he didn’t know if he would’ve been able to talk if he looked straight into endless eyes. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there, but I guess that’s not really an excuse for the fact I almost killed you, right? Ah! But I’m super, super sorry!”

Pretty Boy muttered an acceptance of his apology that Bokuto strained his ears to hear. Bokuto’s face lit up, eyes sparkling. “Great! Do you like volleyball?”

The other boy shook his head no, and his answer made Bokuto deflate a little, until, _“However, I’m much more interested in you.”_

It’s safe to say that Bokuto’s world stopped on its axis, making him feel like only Pretty Boy and himself existed in the world. All Bokuto could bring himself to think about were dark curly hair and stormy eyes, sparking with thunder just under the surface.

Then, Bokuto’s face went red. Ridiculously red, like he just ran a marathon, because did Pretty Boy just admit he’s interested in Bokuto? Not to be immodest, but Bokuto doesn’t think of himself as bad-looking. Quite opposite, actually, if attractiveness was measured by the amount of love letters he’s had to refuse. Even some of the club members have admitted to having a small crush on him. But for someone as drop dead gorgeous as the person standing in front of him? Unthinkable of.

His mouth gaped open and close like a fish, but before he could will the courage to make himself speak, Pretty Boy whispered a few words, then vanished in the darkness of the rising night.

That evening, whenever Bokuto attempted sleep, all he could picture were obscured navy eyes, threatening to spill with an overwhelming _want_ and _need_.

*

After that particular encounter, Akaashi felt as if the volleyball club member was appearing much more often in his life. During lunches, Akaashi could easily find the spiked gray hair in the student cafeteria, almost as easily as spotting a drop of blood in cold white snow. In the midst of class changes, a boisterous yell, much like the one Akaashi heard during his soccer practice, echoed down the hallways and sent a shiver down his spine without fail.

It would have annoyed Akaashi, if he hadn’t found himself enjoying it. It was different than his usual uneventful days, where the only people that tried to talk to him were eventually shut out by his closed-in nature. Akaashi wants, yearns for the same type of adrenaline that fuels him. Wants him to teach Akaashi to break out of his shell.

But alas, the owl basks in the sun and the nightingale hides in the night. That’s just the way life works, and Akaashi knows it better than anyone.

Bokuto, however, doesn’t know of the rule and refuses to acknowledge it. It seems he won’t stop at anything until either his waxed wings melt or the nightingale finally bathes in the sun. The owl, him, he does whatever pleases him.

And Akaashi?

Well, the prey doesn’t have a say in whether it gets devoured or not, right?

*

Bokuto doesn’t quite know when, or how, but he’s gotten the rug pulled from underneath him. From his spot on the floor, he was only able to see the dark feathers of a nightingale and the hungry eyes of the student council president. He was lost to the charm of the beautiful prey, because at some point in time, there was nothing that Bokuto could care about except for Akaashi Keiji.

“Ah, Akaashi,” Bokuto grinned. This was what he was hoping for: another glimpse at the prey before the hunter makes his attack. That was, of course, before the owl had its eyes covered, becoming blind to its own goals and wanting instead nothing more than the nightingale. “Let’s go out and have some ramen!”

Akaashi stayed quiet for a beat or two, and in those moments, Bokuto thought his aim was off. A miss. But his nod reassured Bokuto immediately. “Okay, Bokuto-san. Just let me get changed, alright?”

_Bullseye._

Bokuto smiled pleasantly to himself as he watched Akaashi walk away. As soon as he was out of eyesight, Bokuto whipped out his phone to text Kuroo.

_bokuto [7:24pm]  
he said yes. project ‘win mysterious student council presidents heart’ is undergo_

_kuroo [7:25pm]  
god ur such a loser_

_kuroo [7:25pm]  
but also go get some_

_bokuto [7:26pm]_  
_bitch u know i will….._  
_…._  
_…..try my best_

_kuroo [7:27pm]  
i believe in u bro_

“Bokuto-san, I’m ready.” Bokuto looked up from his phone and there was something about the way Akaashi’s tie was loosely wrapped around his neck and how he rolled up his sleeves to show off such nice forearms, despite the fact that he played a sport that literally doesn’t use arm, that made Bokuto’s heart do a somersault. _Oh fuck._

“Great! Man, Akaashi, there’s this great place in Shibuya that I go to all the time with my Nekoma friends and– ” Bokuto continued to ramble, because the only way he knew how to fight off the nervous fluttering in his stomach was to talk.

But it worked. Behind the dim light of the setting sun, Akaashi smiled and Bokuto realized his grave mistake: nightingales are more sly than owls. And Bokuto’s attempt at an attack?

Complete miss.

*

Akaashi knew almost immediately what the knots in his stomach were and this definitely was not in his high school plans. Getting a crush on his upperclassman - the captain of the volleyball team, no less - was an unplanned event. It triggered all the red alarms in his mind and made Akaashi, of all people, _stutter_.

He doesn’t even quite know how it happened. Maybe it was the evenings spent waiting for Bokuto to finish practices so they could get ramen, or the lunches spent on the rooftop. Perhaps it was the study sessions at the library, failing all too easily at trying not to laugh at Bokuto’s antics. Whatever it was, it took Akaashi in like a wild whirlpool and he didn’t have the motivation to try to escape, instead learning to embrace the harsh waters.

“Bokuto-san, maybe we should leave soon. Your coach said to stay for an hour max.” Akaashi pleaded, eyes glazing over the flex of Bokuto’s arms as he hit a ball. “It’s been almost two hours and I’m sick of just sitting here.”

“Then come play with me! C’mon, ‘Kaashi!” Bokuto looked at him with his ridiculously convincing puppy dog eyes, the same ones that he gives Akaashi when he wants a bite of his pudding bread. It’s an act that Akaashi finds endearingly adorable.

“Bokuto-san, I’ve already said this before; I’m completely uninterested in the sport– ”

“But you’re interested in me, right?” Bokuto avoided his gaze, and Akaashi noticed that the tips of his ears became a lively shade of dark red that made his heart beat impossibly fast. _Ah, he’s embarrassed,_ Akaashi thought with a small smile but it hit him violently when he realized that _yes, I did explicitly say I’m interested in Bokuto, didn’t I?_

“Mhm, yes, I am.” Akaashi smiled and he leaned forward at his spot on the bench, just slightly to get closer to Bokuto. “I’m surprised you still remember that. It _has_ been quite a few months since, you know.”

“Well,” Bokuto rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling a lot more embarrassed now that Akaashi pointed it out. He kept tossing the ball back and forth between his hands, something he does when he’s nervous. “I mean, yeah, ‘course. I always remember things you say, especially if it’s about me. But mostly because, well, it’s _you _.”__

____

____

_Oh._

Akaashi certainly didn’t expect such an honest response like that, which probably explained the tint of red dusted over his cheekbones. He was bashful enough to cover his mouth with his hand and look away slightly, just enough to break eye contact with Bokuto. Internally, he felt like smiling, because Bokuto simply was too cute for him to handle, yet he tried to keep his face as passive as possible.

Akaashi got up from his spot at the bench and picked up a volleyball. It was certainly lighter than a soccer ball, that’s for sure. He looked over his and smiled, ever so faintly, in the way that made him seem like an angel in Bokuto’s eyes.

“Okay, Bokuto-san. Teach me how to play volleyball.”

In the next coming hours of the dark evening, Akaashi learned for the first time what it meant to bask in the sun and the healthy hum he felt in his veins was enough for him to want to come back, crawling on his knees for more.

*

“Bokuto-san, it’s only fair.”

“But Akaashi! I’m a _volleyball_ player, not a _soccer_ player!” Bokuto said the latter sport with an air of disgust that Akaashi almost too quickly recognized.

“Bokuto-san, _I’m_ a soccer player. Please don’t say it like that.” He threatened, though with a lack of seriousness. Bokuto feigned fear, but when Akaashi thrusted the black and white ball into his hands, the faux fear suddenly became real all too fast.

“You’re not serious, right?”

“I’m always serious. Since I played _your_ sport last week, today, you’ll be playing _mine_ ,” Akaashi pointedly glanced at the soccer ball between Bokuto’s hands and smiled at his flustered reaction. “An eye for an eye, Bokuto-san.”

“Argh! Fine!” The ball dropped from Bokuto’s (quite nice) hands and onto the grassy field. He kicked it, albeit very hesitantly, and it rolled a few inches farther. Akaashi was, dare he say, unimpressed. Quite frankly, he expected a bit more from the volleyball team captain (especially since he has such nice legs).

“Bokuto-san.”

“Yeah?”

“If you may allow me to be honest– ”

“Akaashi, don’t– ”

“ –you suck,” Akaashi smiled, slightly teasing and Bokuto made some sort of choked noise from his throat that made Akaashi chuckle. “It’s okay. I’m sure you can get better. Let’s start with the basics.”

“Great! Or, I’ve got an even _better_ idea: how about we just go back to the gym and you toss for me?”

“No. Come on, Bokuto-san. I’m sure you can do it,” Akaashi insisted, laughing in between words. For the next hour or so, Bokuto struggled to smoothly receive passes and was barely able to aim the ball with his feet. By the way his hands twitched by his sides, Akaashi knew that he was becoming frustrated by the ban against using arms (Yet Akaashi can think of so many more uses for such pretty fingers other than sports.)

The moment Bokuto was finally able to score on Akaashi, he yelled– or, perhaps more accurately, roared and Akaashi felt as if he was taken back four months. The setting sun, sweat sticking on his skin and soccer ball between his feet. Everything was almost exactly the same, but there was one very clear difference: Bokuto Koutarou, standing in front of him with a satisfied grin.

“Akaashi, did you see that? Wasn’t it cool?!” Bokuto jumped impossibly high in the air excitedly and Akaashi couldn’t help the small smile on his face.

“Yes, it was quite impressive. If you give a few more months, you could almost be as good as the first years.”

“Does that mean I get some sort of reward?” He smirked in such a sly manner that made Akaashi mildly wary. “Hmm… Ah! How about you treat me to some ramen?”

A moment’s hesitation.

“Sure,” Akaashi mused, returning a glance to Bokuto that made it very clear who exactly was the hunter and the prey in this situation. _Or, I could do_ this, _as it seems like the much more amusing option._

He took a step closer to Bokuto, then another and another until he was within a foot of him. Bokuto seemed like he knew what was going to happen. From the way he looked slightly downward to him, Akaashi would guess that he was successfully making him nervous, anxious, anticipating. He smiled and tilted his head up.

“Akaashi, I– ”

“Hmm, yeah?”

Bokuto paused, then shook his head, slightly licking his lips. In the darkening light of the late hours, Akaashi wondered how can someone look so much like an owl caught in a trap, yet also like a natural predating sneaking up its prey at once. The excited look in Bokuto’s eyes made something burn in the depths of Akaashi’s stomach.

It thrilled him.

“Go on,” Bokuto murmurs quietly, dipping his head just a bit. Akaashi would’ve never have been able to guess that he was able to smile so much ever in his life. He gingerly grabbed Bokuto’s tie (why he still had his uniform on, Akaashi couldn’t fathom, but he looked good, so it didn’t really matter) and pulled him to meet him halfway.

When he kissed Bokuto, something that felt a lot like his high school goals shriveled up and died inside him, but he simply didn’t care. A feeling of pure ecstasy started pumping through his veins, delivering a steady flow of dopamine that made Akaashi feel like his entire body was on fire. Everything felt too hot, burning with a heat incomparable to anything he’d ever experienced in his life, yet he wanted more. More of Bokuto’s hands on his shoulders (bring them _lower_ and _lower_ ), more of Bokuto’s hair between his hands, more of the taste of Bokuto on his lips (he wants to savour it forever), more of Bokuto, _Bokuto, Bokuto, Bokuto._

“You know, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi muttered in a haze between content kisses. He looked completely wrecked, even if all they did was share a few kisses, but the way his stomach filled with an expanding happiness made him feel like he was sitting on cloud nine. “I’ve been waiting quite a while of this.”

“Oh yeah?” Bokuto pulled away slightly, eyes gleaming with some sort of satisfaction. “Should’ve said something about it earlier then, hm?”

Akaashi’s head naturally leaned forward, already craving the feeling of Bokuto’s lips against his. “Never knew if you were interested.”

“You kidding me?” He grinned and placed his hands on Akaashi’s (ridiculously broad, for a soccer player) shoulders. “I’ve been chasing after you ever since I almost pelted you in the face with a volleyball.”

“I think that’s the most romantic thing someone has ever told me, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi smiled, feeling so completely overwhelmed with the joy thrumming just beneath his skin that he felt like he was going to burst.

Behind them, the setting sun dipped behind the horizon, covering the owl and the nightingale in the warm blanket of night.

*

“Hey, Akaashi-kun, your jacket looks a bit big on you. Did you lose weight?”

He glanced at his hands, more precisely at the sleeves that almost cover his hands completely.

“No.” Akaashi shook his head and smiled.

*

“Yo, Bokuto! Where’s your jacket?”

Said third-year looked up at the sound of his name, and at the moment of processing it, he grinned.

“Ah! It’s with someone. Someone real important.”

*

Some might say that in this story, it was the nightingale that conquered the owl, finally forcing it back into its habitat under the moon. Others will debate that it was in fact the owl that lead the nightingale into the warm heat of the sun. However, in reality, it was the light of the moon that lit up the night sky and revealed the beauty of such a nightingale that made it worth the owl’s time.

“Akaashi, I think I’m in love with you,” Bokuto suddenly said one day, both backs on a patch of grass near the station. It was still a bustling day, it being a weekday after all, and they had both skipped class to go get ramen in Ginza - usually Akaashi wouldn’t condone that, but he was in a particularly good mood that day.

“Ah? Is that so, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi, as he always is, was completely calm, as if Bokuto had just described the weather that day. “But we’re not even dating.”

“What?! But Akaashi,” Bokuto sat up from his spot and started gesturing wildly with his hands, as he always does when he gets worked up about something. “We like, kiss all the time! And we’re always holding hands and doing mushy couple stuff!”

“I know, Bokuto-san. I was just joking,” Akaashi smiled and straightened himself as well, just enough to be eye-level with his boyfriend. Setter hands reached out to hold calloused spiker hands gently, with a touch that still never fails to give Bokuto goosebumps. He leaned over to softly kiss Bokuto, just the way that he knows he likes it: the gentle and soft kisses that were enough for both of them to feel warm and fuzzy inside. “You know, I think I’m in love with you too, Koutarou.”

Bokuto’s face immediately split into a grin at the sound of his given name on Akaashi’s lips and both tumbled backwards with the force of his bear sized hug. He ended up pining Akaashi to the ground, arms that scream _‘ace!’_ caging a pale face. “Akaashi! You finally did it!”

Akaashi smiled fondly and his fingers gingerly reached up to trace the edges of Bokuto’s jaw. “You should try it too.”

“Hmm?”

“Say my name, Koutarou,” Akaashi mused, fingers placing themselves at the back of Bokuto’s neck to push him just a bit closer, and a bit more after that. Bokuto followed, falling a bit more into Akaashi’s touch and the softest, gentlest smile Akaashi had ever seen on Bokuto’s face made his stomach do flips.

“I love you, Keiji.”

And the space between them disappeared with a kiss that made it feel like time froze, like the world stopped in its tracks. Just for the two of them, the unlikely pair of the sunny owl and the melancholic nightingale.

**Author's Note:**

> my first hq fic!! dw though, expect more from me in the future ;)
> 
> don’t forget to leave a kudos if you enjoyed !!


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